Phantom: Penance for the Phantom
by Mak3sh1ft
Summary: A couple of months after losing her partner Reiji, Eren finds herself drifting while regaining her old memories. She soon discovers the truth about herself, why she was chosen to be a killer and why Inferno will not allow her to rest. She quickly realizes that in order to live in peace with her new identity, she must first take out the organization that threatens her existence.


**Hey! You clicked on my story! I'm so excited although I doubt anyone will really read this so I'm free to rant for a bit. I'm disappointed that there aren't many fanfics for this anime. It was a really great show. The ending crushed/depressed me. I knew it was coming but-I can't get over it. So now I have to write this story. I'm picking up where the show left off, just a couple of months later. I don't really write narratives too much, but my aim was to sound like Eren. I had to imagine this chapter being spoken in her voice. I hope you can do the same. And above all else, please enjoy and review!**

* * *

The air was fresh this afternoon. Every now and then, a cool breeze blew in from the East, but I was kept warm with the sun. I stood along the dirt road, my eyes fixed not only on the road ahead, but of the past and of the future.

Today was the day. It took months to find and arrange a meeting with this shady group of men to whom the word "Inferno" held no meaning or reverence.

There was still a bounty for my capture, or murder, whichever was more convenient. So I had to take extra precautions in my dealings.

"Örshöögöörei," an old man mumbled as he pushed a large trolley along the gravel. I recognized the phrase to mean _excuse me_ in Mongolian.

I moved out of his path, acknowledging him with a nod.

The language he spoke was familiar to me, even though I'd been away for so long. Slowly, it was all coming back to me. This language. Like a dream that I'm waking from. Like a dream full of vivid details that I can finally remember.

There are plenty of things people say here that I can't understand immediately. But they need not repeat themselves because after a few seconds I can translate the meaning, therefore, I'm re-learning the language at a rapid pace.

I glanced down at my small wrist watch. It was almost time to meet her. I walked along the pathway, past merchant shops and a small school of children. Occasionally, I looked up to meet the azure sky, so deep and endless. Easy to get lost in. Easy to make me forget. I brought my head down and focused my attention ahead. Maybe I didn't want to forget, just yet.

I reached the point of meeting three minutes early. It was a small, family owned restaurant. I heard that the tea was good here. Maybe I'd try it.

I decided to take a seat at a round table shaded from the sun. A wispy-looking woman who swept the front approached me with a soft smile worn with wrinkles.

"Can I get you anything sweetheart?" She asked in my native tongue.

As I've said, I was still learning the language. Although, I may have understand a substantial amount, speaking it was sometimes a challenge. However, I managed to ask for tea.

She gave a pleased nod and disappeared in the doorway. Moments later, she returned with a teacup rattling against the saucer as her hands trembled, a demise of old age.

"Thanks a lot," I said with a smile that was neither ordinary nor unusual. It was nothing personal against the woman. There was just nothing to smile about in this world. Nothing at all.

I waited for three minutes before she arrived. I knew it was her because she paused briefly to catch my eyes in a look that made me certain. Then, she kept walking past me and I knew that she meant for me to follow her. She would lead me to him.

I finished my tea. It would've been rude to the old woman if I hadn't.

I followed her.

* * *

I didn't have a good feeling when I entered the place. I should've known then, but I guess I was just being optimistic. After all, these people had helped me for months now, not out of honor, but help was all the same to me. It's not like I had many options, so I had to take advantage of any opportunity that presented itself.

Right now, I was dealing with a man who could get me a ticket out of the country. He was cold and indifferent, not at all curious why a girl like me was so adamant to get away. What honor he did possess was only for increased wealth. He was exactly the kind of help I needed.

His back was against the small window, where the sunlight streamed through. It casted a glow behind him while his face remained in a shadow. What men he had with him in his private owned property were in the back, drinking and playing cards. Every so often, there came a vulgar shout from one of them.

He eyed me with weary suspicion, a look that I had grown accustomed to, as he sat across from me. Wordlessly, he slid the envelope across the table before tossing his head back to light a cigarette.

I checked the contents for accuracy. I pulled one of the documents out to examine more closely.

My passport.

My identity.

"Satisfied?" He only spoke English to me. I suppose he assumed that I didn't speak his language. I hadn't when we first met. That had changed. But I didn't tell him that.

I gave a silent nod.

He nodded consecutively, then released a puff of smoke between us. I pulled out a portion of cash, the rest of the money I owed, which made his eyes light up.

Just then, one of his men came to him, leaned in and whispered in Mongolian something that set my insides on edge. "There's something important I have to tell you."

"Speak. She can't understand us," he replied, turning his head away from me.

"I think this is the girl we've been hearing rumors about."

My hands moved to unwrap the knife tied to my thigh.

The man narrowed his eyes for a moment before recovering his composure to casually look my way. Part of me expected this. The other part of me didn't want to believe that this would be the result. This man would die if he fought against me. Him and his men.

"Are you sure?"

"Her partner was killed here a couple of months ago. She's a skilled assassin. I think the Americans have a large bounty for her."

"Mm. Then we'll keep her here until it's confirmed. Gather the men. Tell them to standby for my orders if she tries to run."

His sidekick nodded and walked briskly to the back of the pub only before catching my eyes in a nervous glance. If I couldn't understand a word they said, his eyes gave him away. I'm sure people found it difficult to decipher the feeling in my own. I exposed nothing in them. This was a natural response since my time with Scythe. Because I didn't have a personality. I didn't have personal feelings.

I was just a mindless killer.

Things were different now. I was emotionally attached to this world, to him, even though he was no longer with me. I trained my eyes. They only showed what I allowed them. Most of the time, I'm sure they were blank, staring with vacant consequence.

The man across flashed me a toothy grin. "It's been nice doing business with you, but I'm afraid you'll have to stay here for a while longer."

This was the calm before the storm. Whether he knew or not, this was a battle of wills: who would strike first. I understood this as I stared into his dark eyes. He sat there stubbing out his cigarette with ease, his right arm slung over the back of his chair. He looked at me curiously, as though he expected me to try to escape.

"Why?" I asked him.

"I think you know-"

"I mean, why will you make me kill you and your men? No one _needs_ to die here today."

He froze in shock.

We locked eyes and he knew and I both knew the secret was out.

He moved quickly but not fast enough to pull the pistol he had hidden.

I had already flipped the table over to separate us, knife in hand. Swiftly, I shoved all my weight against it to pin him against the window while he blindly fired his gun.

"You bitch!" he shouted.

Soon I would meet the rest of his men. He tried to push the table back against me but I twisted out-of-the-way and jammed my knife into his free hand. He tumbled over the table by his own weight, crying out.

I then freed the weapon from his hand and quickly finished him off as three of his men entered.

I pushed the table back up to use as a shield as one fired a shot. It pierced through the wood at the speed of lightning. He kept firing so I moved closer to the ground until I knew exactly where he was standing. And I hurled my knife in his direction with great force, waited until I heard his body hit the ground.

"What the hell?"

"How did she-?"

"Shoot her!"

They all shouted. They all panicked. I was calm and in control. But I was not myself as I moved out of cover and attacked the rest.

They didn't have time to pull the trigger.

After a few moments, each of them lied on the ground in a pool of their own blood. I stood there a moment watching them, thinking that all of this could easily been avoided.

They had no choice but to die, I reminded myself. Because they allowed their greed to surpass their good sense. The documents I came for were on the floor next to my dealers' dead body. I picked up the envelope, stained with droplets of his blood and left.

This place wasn't far from the town I had come from. I ran as fast as I could. The wind blew through my hair. It gave the impression of freedom. But I wasn't free just yet. I kept going until I reached the outskirts of the small town where the sun mounted high above it, as though a sign from the Earth that I had finally reached safety. From there, I walked casually, taking in my surroundings for any suspicious activity.

I thought about my passport. My identity. I never thought I'd have one.

"_It doesn't matter if we find out or not. I can never go back to that life."_

_"That may be true. But you can always start a new life, Eren. You and I can start a new life together."_

That's what he told me. Reiji. A new life. I held that prospect close to my heart until-

A crate full of fruit crashed in front of me. I looked up and saw another trolley like the one I had seen earlier, only this one held several more stacks.

"Crap!" Its driver quickly jumped out and knelt over to collect them. His black hair barely reached his shoulders. He was young and appeared built-in muscle in his T-shirt while he used the grey sweater tied around his waist to gather the fruits in a hasty manner.

"Need some help?" I asked cheerfully in Mongolian.

He hardly glanced at me. "Yeah, thanks. I'm sorry about this. All it takes is one little pebble to topple the whole damn thing."

"You speak English," I said as though I were impressed. He spoke well enough to sound American.

He was surprised by that. But he gave a bright smile. "One language is never enough," he answered. "Although sometimes I'm not aware that I'm speaking it."

That's when he looked up. His eyes widened. Like he'd seen a ghost. Was I revealing something in my face?

"Something wrong?" I asked with a smile. I wondered why he looked at me that way. It was very strange.

He blushed and shook his head. "No. Sorry. You just…you just look like someone I used to know," he said quietly, turning his eyes to concentrate on his task. He looked upset while doing so. Why was he upset?

"Who would that be?" I asked with enthusiasm although, I was actually curious.

He was silent for a moment. His mouth pressed into a thin line.

"It's no one, really," he replied impatiently as we placed the last of the fallen fruit in the crate holder. He then stood up, brushed his hands on his pants and held out his hand. "Thanks for your help Ms.-?

"Azuma." I took his hand. "Eren Azuma," I said, relishing the sound of my new identity.


End file.
